


Devil Town

by im_pie_la



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cecil is dead, Conspiracies and Ghosts, Gen, SCIENCE!, autistic!Carlos, blind!Cecil, but they're kids, implied Cecil/Carlos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 10:37:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15117605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_pie_la/pseuds/im_pie_la
Summary: Night Vale,  a small town buried away in the depths of rural America, is still shaken by the turmoil of events that took place within its silent streets almost thirty years ago.When Carlos, new to the town and its eccentric ways, discovers the reason for the traumatic happenings decades ago, will the town’s strange ways be countered?Or will it spiral even deeper into insanity?





	Devil Town

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I keep writing fics saying they'll be my last but seriously this WILL be my last.  
> Cecil is blind in this, and Carlos is autistic. There's also very lowkey Ziv/Carlos, but I'm not tagging that because that would be,,, weird and kind of confusing.  
> All the chapters have been planned and partially written, so while this may be a bit slow at first it's just because you gotta like,, set the scene y'know. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and please bookmark/leave kudos and comments!!

The town was small, buildings clustered together as protection from the bare desert scrub and no-one saw it unless they wanted to.  
Night Vale was just far away from any normal city, for Carlos to immediately hate it.  
He stared out of the window, searching for anything interesting. As him and his mother drove slowly through the empty streets, an old woman, sitting out on her porch and knitting, raised her head and fixed her gaze on Carlos with electric blue eyes, too young and vibrant for her withered body.  
As they passed, someone opened the door behind her and poked their head through the opening. They were so tall, their covered head brushed the top of the door-frame. They had a white hoodie drawn up to their face, contrasting with their dark skin. The woman didn’t turn around, eyes locked onto Carlos’ eyes. Her mouth moved as if she was replying to the person. They looked up, and Carlos couldn’t see their face. The hand that wrapped around the door was large, the slender fingers tapering to a point that was almost inhumanely long.  
The person looked up from the lady, and regarded the boy. Their face was so in shadow he couldn’t make out their eyes, let alone any other features.  
Carlos sat back in his seat, glancing sideways at his mother. She was talking about the great pizza place where Carlos and his ‘mates’ could hang out, despite the fact that Carlos didn’t ‘hang out’ nor have any friends.  
“You’ll be starting school after the summer. Fifteen years old! My little boy all grown-up.” She turned to him, her mouth opening in a grin as she pinched his cheek. He batted her hand away.  
“Eyes on the road, Mum.” He complained. He didn’t want to start school, he didn’t want to be in this weird, empty, remote town.  
They pulled up outside the house and Carlos’ mouth fell open.  
And he really did not want to be living in that house.  
It was nice… twenty years ago. But now the wood was sun-bleached and splotched green and brown from mould. The drive was overgrown and he couldn’t hear anything. Suddenly he longed for the bustling streets of New York and the towering, but not at about to fall down, glass and metal structures. It was positioned where the valley began to curve up into a mountain, closer to the sand-dunes than the other houses.  
“Why do we have to stay here?” Carlos looked up at her, frowning. He knew the answer, but he still clung onto the hope that his mum would change her mind and they would get back in the car and leave this town. His mother’s smile dropped and he could tell that that was a bad thing to say.  
“Carlos, you know why. After your father…” She trailed off.  
Carlos immediately felt guilty, picking at his jean’s hem.  
“Mum, it’s okay. I know. I’m sorry.” His mum smiled wanly down at him, eyes sorrowful.  
“I know it’s not the best.” She apologized and Carlos wanted to kick himself for being so insensitive.  
“Its fine, Mum. Really.”  
Looking back up at the house, she squeezed his shoulders and walked back over to the car, opening the boot and pulling out a suitcase.  
“The removal van will be here in an hour or so.” She called over. When he began to amble over to her, intending to help, hands buried deep into his hoodie pockets, she threw the keys to the house at him.  
“Go and explore.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and Carlos turned to gaze at the house, heaved a sigh and went to unlock the door.  
Fumbling through the ten or so keys, none of them labelled, he noticed a rabbit’s foot hooked onto the silver loop.  
He pulled a face and tried his hardest not to touch the foot, shaking the hand that had touched it hard.  
He grabbed a key at random and pushed it into the lock. He wasn’t even sure if it was the right one or not, the lock was so rusted. He tried with the others, until finally the door unlocked with a clunk and he tugged the key back out of the warped lock.  
When he stepped inside, he instantly scrunched his nose up at the overwhelming stench of mildew. He was standing in a large hallway, directly opposite a gently curving staircase. Ornate doors led off around him, walls covered in once grand red wallpaper, peeling and showing the rainbow of colours underneath. The carpet was matted, worn in a clear journey from the door to the stairs and winding around to each of the doors and the rooms that lay ahead.  
He could hear his mother whistling somewhere outside the house, and taste the cloying dust and dirt, disturbed by the door opening.  
And he could feel someone watching him.  
He slowly turned his head and met the gaze of a boy around his age, with albino skin and hair the colour of lightning.  
Shocked, Carlos stepped back, almost dropping the keys.  
The painting was exceptional, the boy gazing at the painter with a kind curve of his pale lips, one hand cradling a small ball of black fluff, that, after close inspection, Carlos realised it was a small kitten.  
The boy was wearing a pressed white shirt, under a brownish knitted waistcoat. Around his neck was a lilac tie, tucked under the knitted atrocity.  
Despite the obvious passion and dedication that had gone into the drawing, it was only half-finished. One of the boy’s legs wasa solid block of colour without any detail or shading, the top right corner was blank and his elbow was only outlined in black. His pale purple eyes were slightly different colours, as if the artist couldn’t look at the actual ones for accuracy. After squinting at it, he realised the eyes were slightly unfocused, and the paleness was just milky film. There had been a lady in Chicago, squatting on the corner of the street and begging for money; a tattered sign around her neck labelled her as blind. Her eyes had matched the boy’s.  
Underneath the full-length painting was a brightly-polished brass plaque. ‘Cecil Palmer (and Khosekh) 1960-1975’ Carlos scrunched his nose up at the small piece of metal. The boy had died young and that realisation made Carlos even more opposed to this town and this house.  
While he had been staring at the incomplete painting, his mum had crept up behind him, holding two suitcases.  
“Apparently,” Carlos jumped out of his skin, fingers clenching on the keyring. He spun to face his mum who smiled down at him fondly. “He went missing when he was fifteen and never showed up. Some say he was kidnapped, others that he simply ran away and more claim he was mauled to death in the woods.” Her voice dipped into a spooky tone and she waved her fingers mysteriously in front of his face, and he batted them away, albeit with a smile.  
“Don’t go missing, love?” she said it in a jokey tone, but Carlos could see the worry in her eyes. He nodded and gave her a reassuring smile, making sure to make eye contact so she knew he was serious. Eye contact made him uncomfortable and was pretty useless altogether but he knew he had to do it.  
He tried to hand her the keychain with the rabbit foot but she pulled a face at him and pushed them away with a laugh.  
“They’re supposed to be lucky.” She explained and Carlos raised a sceptical eyebrow. She laughed again.  
“It wasn’t really lucky for the rabbit.” Carlos retorted, just to have the last word.  
“Go pick out your room.” She pointed towards the stairs before dropping the keys in his hoodie pocket and pushing him away.  
He looked back over his shoulder, smirking. The calm eyes of Cecil looked emptily back at him, gazing out towards his mother and Carlos wondered what had really happened to the lilac-eyed boy.

 

Carlos walked cautiously up the steps, clinging to the banister as they creaked ominously under his feet. When he reached the landing, he was frankly amazed that they hadn’t caved in under him.  
Padding softly across the faded carpet, he looked at the four doors, all shut. Picking the one closest to him, he pushed on the handle and walked in.  
He screwed his face up at the amount of dust everywhere. The carpet was grey with ingrained dirt, the books on the shelves unreadable, grime clinging to the ageing pages. He held a sleeve-covered hand to his mouth and tried not to disturb anything. 

One step into the room, it plumed up around his Converse, and got in his eyes.  
“It’s really dusty.” He stepped out of the room and leaned precariously over the landing barrier, calling to his mum.  
“Be careful of your asthma.” She replied, looking over a box of saucepans up the stairs to him. “Open a few windows.”  
He returned to the room, covering his mouth and walked in the general direction of the window. Pushing heavily on the latch, he flung it open.  
He left the room, opening the other doors, in the hope of airing them out before he walked in. as he waited for the dust to settle in the first room, he noticed a round shape, hanging opposite the door of the first room.  
He stepped over to it, the floorboards under his feet creaking. He flipped the frame, and saw his own reflection. The mirror was cracked down the centre, and Carlos’ saw double of his own wide eyes. As he stared at himself, something flickered behind him in the reflection of the mirror. He turned around immediately, ever paranoid. He had seen way too many horror films to dismiss the movement.  
But the second he turned his head, he felt a pair of eyes boring into his head. He backed against the wall, his anxiety still high even though he knew nothing could creep up on him.  
In the swirling dust in the room next to him, rays of sun cutting through the dancing particles. Through the mini dust-storm a woman stood, watching him, on the other side of the bed. She was dressed in black, a white lace lying across her shoulders and chest. Her hands were folded in front of her, and her pale, pale face stood out starkly against her drooping bonnet. 

It was the face that sent Carlos fleeing down the stairs, or rather, the lack of it. Skin stretched over the hollows of her eye sockets and her nose was nothing but a faint bump, Voldemort-style. Her mouth was also covered up, but her concealed gums were stretched wide underneath the sealed skin.  
Carlos reached the bottom of the stairs, rasping with terror. He looked up, eyes wide, to see if the dust lady had followed him.  
But instead of her faceless gaze, there was just a faint exhale, tinged with laughter and definitely not the house creaking.  
He left his pride in the hallway and pelted it outside, sending dandelion seeds scattering as he kicked their heads.  
“Carlos!” His mother smiled at him, holding a box of books against her hip and talking to a dark-skinned lady. “C’mon, meet our neighbours, Bianka and Dana!” A small girl wriggled her way from under her mother’s arm and ambled up to where Carlos stood, still breathing heavily.  
“Hi!” she smiled and Carlos saw her front teeth were slightly crooked. She had a mess of curls exploding from her head, tied carelessly back with a strip of purple fabric. In fact, purple seemed to be her theme colour, her top matching her makeshift hair-band. High-waisted shorts showed off her long tanned legs, ending in knee-height shiny black Doc Martens. They were laced up with purple cord, embroidered with tiny eyes. She was holding a tray of cookies that Carlos- despite his near death experience- couldn’t help but eye up.  
Carlos weakly lifted a hand, and offered a smile. “Hey.”  
She sent him a weird look as they stood facing each other on the uneven driveway.  
“Why are you panting?”  
“Ran down the stairs.”  
She raised a judgemental eyebrow and a bemused smile came over her face.  
“So eager to meet us?” she joked. Carlos dipped his head, smiling bashfully, but before he could think of a plausible lie other than a faceless woman had appeared and he’d ran like a child, she leaned in conspiringly.  
“Or was it the ghosts?” Carlos' eyes widened, but Dana pulled back laughing.  
“Are there really ghosts?” He figured it had been a joke, at the way she chuckled, as well as the concrete, Scientific fact ghosts didn’t actually exist.  
And that lady had seemed far too real to be a sceptre.  
“There are old legends.” Dana told him, knowingly. She sat down on the front porch steps of the house, gesturing at him to sit next to her.  
“About twenty years ago, a boy went missing. His name was Cecil. He was blind, but pretty much the entire town loved him. He was kind, and loved making up these stories. My mum’s brother, Earl he kind of knew Cecil. He was about eight when Cecil went missing and my mum was younger. The town was plunged into horror, for this little child had vanished. Children weren’t allowed out after dark, there were big search parties that would scour the forest, calling and calling and calling. They sent dogs after him, and the police from the next town were sent over. It was massive.” Dana paused, looking at Carlos. She had set her platter of cookies down next to her and offered him one.  
“You look kinda shocked.” She grinned, wiping crumbs from her chin. Carlos carefully took a bite and was impressed by the taste. He liked to bake, him and his mother did a lot when he was younger, but now she was too busy, and anything he tried to make came out burnt or just plain disgusting. There was a science to cake-making and it was the only one Carlos did not understand.  
“Dana, I hope you’re not scaring Carlos!” Bianka called over to them, smiling kindly. Carlos smiled and shook his head.  
“It’s fine,” he replied and Bianka turned back to his mum, who seemed pleased the two children had gotten along so well.  
“There’s a big rivalry still with the next town over, Desert Bluffs? They didn’t really do much to help us, just tried to protect themselves.” Dana continued, her voice was muffled by chocolate chips and biscuit mush.  
“The main theory was another wolf or animal was going around, and instead of helping us find it, they would protect themselves. At night, the men would search the surrounding moor and woods, with dogs and torches and pans, trying to scare this fictional monster away. They never found it, or Cecil.”  
Carlos stared at her raptly. “Then what?” He’d almost completely forgotten about the lady, caught up in the story.  
“Days after the disappearance, someone noticed that Cecil’s mother hadn’t left the house. Sure, she had pitched in with the searching, but when no sign of Cecil was found, she just wasted away I guess. They found her in her bed. Earl said her eyes were like fused shut.” She made a gesture around her face that Carlos assumed meant ‘fused shut’  
“So her ghost still haunts the house?” Dana dusted her hands away from her lap, nodding.  
“If you believe that, yeah. But the kicker is, and no one’s understood this to this day, they found Cecil’s stick that he used for walking, in his room, half-kicked under the bed.”  
Carlos nodded slowly. “So he couldn’t have wandered off?” He reached for another biscuit as Dana carried on.  
Dana smiled, as if she was glad there was someone else to talk to about the missing child. “It could have been wild animals, but they couldn’t have gotten into the house…”  
Carlos opened his mouth to add something else, but Bianka interrupted again, looking over at them.  
“Hey Dana, why don’t you go and show Carlos around?” Carlos glanced at his mum, to check if it was alright and, receiving a nod, jumped to his feet.  
Now he’d heard about even more of the missing boy and a suicide on top of it, Carlos just wanted to get away from the house, no matter how interesting the history was. 

XXXxxxXXX

“We have a bowling alley, a couple of cafes, a book shop, Arby’s, a flower shop and y’know things like that.” Dana said as they walked along the middle of the sun-scorched road. “There’s a diner, which is okay. And Big Rico’s Pizza. Nobody does a slice like Big Rico’s Pizza.”  
Night Vale was empty, everyone was in their houses, hiding from the sun. It was the hottest summer in several years, the man on the radio had said, before they drove out to this place and lost all signal.  
Carlos was sweltering in his hoodie but he knew he would be far more uncomfortable without his familiar hoodie.  
“Are there other kids?” he asked. He liked Dana and her storytelling, but there had to be some other kids his age.  
The corners of her dark eyes crinkled in amusement. “Of course. They all went on some kind of Scout trip today, orienteering across the forest and Canyon.”  
“There’s a canyon here? And why aren’t you with them?” Carlos was finding it hard to keep up with her, his legs moving at twice the pace of Dana’s.  
“I’m not in the Scouts. And no, the canyon is a figment of my imagination, it doesn’t exist, like mountains and gravity.”  
Carlos looked at her in confusion. “Of course gravity exis-“  
“I know, I know. I was being sarcastic.” Dana interrupted. Carlos fell silent. He had never really understood sarcasm and tones of voice and he kicked himself for not picking up on the comment.  
They walked in silence, Carlos looking around at the houses. Suddenly, he gasped and dashed away from Dana.  
“There’s a park!” But before he could touch the gate and push it open, Dana swooped up behind him and pulled him away by a vice grip on his arm.  
Carlos turned to her, a look of irritation on his face. “I just wanted to go to the park. Sorry if it’s childish-”  
“Keep walking.” She gritted out, walking even faster, tugging him along after her. Her eyes were fixed on the ground determinedly.  
Carlos twisted to look back at the park, suddenly noticing figures he hadn’t seen before. They were all wearing hoodies. Some were lying on the slides and on the swings and just looking at them gave Carlos a sense of unease.  
“They’re druggies.” Dana muttered as he turned back and walked with her.  
“They’re dangerous and are crazy territorial over the park. They deal in it since it was built. All the kids stay away.” She explained, slowing down as she realised how he was starting to pant under the hot sun.  
“It’s just a rule in this town. Don’t talk to people unless you know them, like me, my mum and Josie.  
Carlos opened his mouth to say he didn’t even know who Josie was, but she held a finger up and walked over to a shop, still talking.  
“I’ll introduce you to Josie soon. I wouldn’t mention Cecil or where you live, of course, everyone knows, but people around here like to ignore the bad stuff.”  
She was still talking as she lead them towards a small café with a small sign outside. ‘Higher Grounds’ was emblazoned in black on a white background, with a simple cup with steam lines radiating from it.  
Half-smiling at the ironic name, he walked in after Dana, the bell jangled above him.  
“Hey Dana!” the golden-haired boy leaned over the counter to high-five the girl. The café was almost empty, save for an old man reading a newspaper in the corner and a small gaggle of young mums sipping lattes and laughing with each other. There was a single teenager behind the counter, a grey cap with ‘Higher Grounds’ embroidered on it. His bored face lit up when he saw Dana walk in.  
“Ziv, how’re you?” Dana slapped his hand and turned around to Carlos, who was standing by the pastries awkwardly.  
“Carlos, this is Ziv. Ziv, Carlos.” Ziv waved and Carlos raised a limp hand in the air.  
“You’re the new kid right?” Ziv called over his shoulder as he began making a drink. Carlos nodded before he remembered what Dana had said. Dana rolled her eyes a little but gave him a nod anyway.  
“Uh, yeah.” Ziv flashed him a smile and handed Dana a cup of iced lemonade. She smiled at him, sipping the drink and sighing.  
Carlos didn’t remember her asking for a drink, but he didn’t mention it.  
“This is the best café in the whole of Nightvale.” Dana informed him, taking a sip.  
A blonde woman stepped out from the ‘Employees Only’ door in what seemed like a very stiff way. As if she’d been lurking there waiting for her moment. She was rather round and had bright red lipstick on her lips and her teeth. Her nametag called her Lauren.  
“Thanks Diana.” She told her, and Dana gave a small, strained smile.  
Carlos, who felt kind of very out of his depth in front of the two, gave the woman a timid smile.  
“What do you want? My treat.” Dana asked, to hurry Carlos up and he squinted at the menus above the counter, suddenly on the spot. The woman was still staring at him and Dana.  
“Uh, just an Iced Coffee, please.” Ziv held up a medium-sized cup, questioningly and Carlos nodded. He dug through his pockets and came out with three pounds wrapped in a crumpled receipt from when he had last gone grocery shopping. Dana waved him off and slid her change from before over the counter.  
“Don’t use so much syrup. If you waste it, it’s coming out of your paycheck.” Lauren hissed and Ziv winced as he poured in the ice and put the lid on the blender.  
“Right, sorry Lauren.” The woman gave a ‘hrumph’ noise and walked off again.  
Ziv turned back around to Carlos and Dana as the blender began crunching the ice and smiled but it looked fake now.  
“Sorry.” He whispered and Carlos gave him a sympathetic wince.  
He took Dana’s money and slid her a receipt back. He tried return her change to her but she shook her head and pushed it back towards him. He pocketed it reluctantly, completely ignoring the tip jar.  
The blender stopped and Ziv poured it out into the cup and handed it to a confused Carlos.  
Dana ushered him out of the shop, calling out behind them, “Thanks Ziv, see ya Lauren!”  
“Bye Dana.” Ziv called, and Carlos craned around to see him being pulled through the Employees Only door by the glowering woman.  
Dana tugged him further up the road, under the shade of a massive oak tree sprouting out of the cracked tarmac.  
“What happened there?” Carlos asked, picking at the hem of his shirt one-handedly, wondering if he’d done something wrong.  
Dana sat down on the kerb of the road, sipping at her drink. Still regretting his decision to wear jeans and a hoodie, Carlos sat facing her side, cross-legged, biting the end of his straw absent-mindedly.  
“That’s Higher Grounds.” Dana started and he felt a long-winded lecture coming on. “It’s run by a woman named Lauren, who also works for a bigger company called Strex Corporate. Strex Corp for short.”  
Dana scrubbed a dark hand over her face, frowning. “She’s pretty horrible, Ziv’s on minimum wage, and works pretty much every day. He’s thinking about quitting after the summer and working in Inkdeath for Tamika.”  
At his confused look, she jabbed a finger over her shoulder at the shop behind them. Turning his head, he saw row upon row of books, with armchairs and small tables stuffed in among the loose stacks that took up most of the floor space.  
“Then hopefully, Lauren will leave.”  
Carlos gulped his drink, glad for its coldness and nodded.  
“Is there anything normal about this town?” he asked her, half-joking, half-serious. In the past hour he had seen a faceless woman in his house, who had appeared from nowhere with no explanation; been dragged away from a park filled with drug addicts and an empty coffee shop with a woman skulking around in the back room.  
“No. But you’re taking it pretty well.” Dana laughed.  
“I still think this is some kind of prank.” Carlos protested and Dana scrunched her nose up with grin.  
“A town-wide one? Believe what makes you feel better, but I wouldn’t lie to you about Cecil.” Carlos searched her face and as badly as he read people, he could feel that she was deadly serious. Although Dana could have… Issues. Maybe she really believed there were ghosts and voices in her head.  
Dana’s head turned to look down the road at the sound of a child’s babbling drifted to them on the cooling breeze.  
“And he likes cupcakes, Nana, can we make cupcakes for him? He likes… I don’t know what flavour he likes. What does he like Nana?”  
“Ah, here’s Josie.” Dana gave Carlos a knowing look. “She’ll convince you this isn’t a prank.”  
Carlos looked up from where he was staring intently at Dana. A small girl with a sparkly gold crown, dipped low across her forehead, was skipping along the pavement, dodging the cracks and occasionally looking up at the woman who was holding her hand. The girl had blue fairy wings; nylon stretched across the wire frame and tied to blue ribbon that was knotted across her chest. She had black hair, with short braids sticking up from under the confines of her hair band.  
“Dana!” she called, letting go of the woman and running over to the two teenagers.  
Dana quickly thrust her cup upon Carlos who took it in surprise, and held her hands out for the dark-skinned little girl.  
“Hey Erika!” she cried and Erika ran into her arms, giggling.  
The old woman picked her way over to them, stiffly. “Child, has your mother raised you right? Sitting on the curb like a vagrant!” she had a thick American accent and Dana laughed.  
“We're just enjoying the day, Josie!” Josie shuffled to stand behind them, squinting at Dana and Erika with fondness.  
The girl held her hand out for Carlos to shake, and he took it. With a grin, she shook his hand hard, almost wrenching his arm out of its socket with the force that she pumped it up and down with.  
“I’m Erika, with a K!” she informed him, grinning wide. One of her front teeth was missing and her tiara, made out of twisted gold wires, was sitting crooked on her head.  
“Hello Erika with a K.” Carlos replied, much to her amusement, smiling down at her as she settled herself in Dana’s lap. Carlos caught Dana’s eyes over her bobbing head and he laughed slightly.  
Carlos twisted himself around and offers a hand up to the grumpy old woman. “Hi, I’m Carlos, I just moved here.” He was shocked to see that she was the lady from earlier, with her piercing blue eyes. He faltered, just for a second, and she blinked long and slow at him, almost as if she could sense his surprise.  
A small smile curved Josie’s lips. “I know who you are. I’m Josie. I'm sure you will be happy here.”  
Then she turned and addressed Dana, as if he wasn’t there. “He won’t last a month.” Carlos let out a huff of shocked air, and he raised his eyebrows.  
Dana smiled at his expression, sitting the little girl on her lap and let her play with her explosion of hair.  
“She doesn’t mean it, Carlos. Josie, don’t scare him. I told him the legends, and he was terrified.”  
Carlos frowned at her but found himself comfortable in these total stranger’s presence, unlike the socially-awkward boy he’d been in Chicago.  
“I was not terrified-!” He protested, but without any real anger. Josie tutted.  
“You should be scared. They’re not legends, they happened hardly three decades ago.” She sucked on her teeth thoughtfully and Erika moved around in Dana’s lap, sensing a story coming on.  
Carlos was excited to learn more about the town but the amount he had learned already was giving him a headache.  
“You know about Cecil and how he disappeared, yes?” She asked, and didn’t wait for him to confirm her question.  
“I used to look after him. He was a lovely boy. He came up with the best stories, about angels and dragons and bloodstones.” She chuckled. “He never wandered off, he was so well-behaved. He wouldn’t have wandered off, least of all without his stick. Something took that boy.” She nodded, staring into the near-distance. “Something bad and something that I don’t know.”  
Erika squealed in terrified glee and stamped her feet on the ground. She was wearing ballerina shoes, Carlos noticed.  
Dana leaned down to take a sip of her drink, which Carlos was still holding and he tried to give it back to her but she had her hands full with Erika.  
Carlos shrugged slightly to himself and accepted his new role as designated cup-holder.  
“You saw something in that house didn’t you?” Josie asked, not quite looking at Carlos, but rather just above his head.  
Carlos frowned, completely at a loss of how she could’ve known, but nodded. Dana stared at him with wide eyes and a wide mouth.  
“You didn’t tell me!” she accused him and he held his hands up, still holding both cups, in surrender.  
“I thought I was going crazy.” He excused himself and she seemed to accept that.  
Erika turned to him too, and clapped her little hands together. “Was it a ghost? Was it dead? Did it try to kill you!” she asked, enraptured and Carlos blinked rapidly at her bright airy tone and morbid words.  
“What, no, no she didn’t come near me-“  
“You’re not crazy. You’ll see her a lot more now, if you’re going to stay there. She will not hurt you, but you’ll need to protect yourself.” Josie told him in a knowing tone and he frowned, banishing the intrusive thoughts of Chicago Public School Sex Ed that sprung up at the thought of ‘protection’  
“How?” he asked, forgetting that he did not believe in ghosts because Science proved ghosts did not exist.  
“Good luck charms.” Josie said cryptically and Carlos scrunched his face up, looking up at the old woman with the sun in his eyes.  
“Like… like a rabbits foot?” he asked, putting Dana’s drink down quickly and dug in his hoodie pocket for the set of keys that he now realised his mother might be needing.  
“Ew why do you have that?” Dana asked immediately and Carlos shrugged.  
“It came on the key chain.” He protested, wishing this old woman would stop making him look so weird in front of his new friend. For once he was not messing this up for himself, so why was Josie doing it for him?  
“Erika. Do not lick it.” Josie warned the little girl and Carlos realised that the girl had been leaning in towards the charm in his hand. Erika pouted.  
“Erika what do we lick?” Josie said, in a tired but amused voice.  
“Popsicles. And sweets.” She recited.  
“And what do we not lick Erika?” Carlos was fighting a laugh now at the child’s scowl.  
“Rabbit feet.” She muttered.  
Josie nodded, giving Carlos a smile that seemed to make her old face young again. “Yes, a rabbits foot is good. Keep it close in that house. The woman will not harm you, she is simply lonely, but the others in the house may try their luck with you.” Josie warned.  
Before Carlos could say anything more about possibly the ‘others’ in the house, Erika leapt up, almost spilling Dana’s drink.  
“Nana we need to go!” She announced. “We’re getting glitter.” She told Dana and Carlos seriously.  
Josie chuckled and held her hand out to the little girl who skipped up to take her hand.  
“Oh before we leave Carlos. What is your favourite cupcake flavour?” She asked mysteriously. Erika gasped again, her hands untangling form Josie’s to cover her mouth in a cartoonish way.  
“I forgot!” she said in shock, and Josie patted her head.  
“Um, chocolate?” Carlos said stupidly and Josie nodded, like she had expected that answer.  
“We’ll have to pick up chocolate too then.” Erika muttered under her breath as she and Josie walked off.  
Carlos looked back to Dana, shading his eyes with a hand. “What was that?” he asked, having been present for the past 15 minutes but having no idea of what had actually happened.  
Dana laughed and drained the last of her drink. “That was Josie.” 

XXXxxxXXX

Later on, when Carlos had finished his drink and the sun had dipped lower in the sky, they walked back home.  
“You’re starting the high school in the fall aren’t you?” Dana asked, stepping lightly across the pavement, eyes watching the cracks in the pavement and her feet as she avoided each one. Carlos wanted to ask if it was a Nightvale thing or a Dana thing.  
Even so, he made sure to step carefully.  
“Yeah, they’ve accepted me.” Carlos told her, tugging at his hair absentmindedly and she nodded, doing a quick skiphop over the cement. The tarmac of the road before them had heat mirages rising up, making Carlos’ eyes ache as he watched the fuzzy air.  
“It won’t be too bad.” She said, in a rather kind way. “Everyone will be starting a new school so it can’t be too awful.”  
He watched her out of the corner of his eyes, nodding. She looked up at him, pausing for a moment.  
“Plus you’ll have a friend to go with.” She said, and even Carlos could tell she was slightly nervous. He didn’t quite know how to respond, unsure if she was meaning herself or if possibly the ghost of Cecil was going to rise again to join them at school.  
“Me.” She said finally, with some of her old confidence and he nodded, understanding finally.  
“Yeah, I’ll have you.” He agreed, and she grinned, widely with her crooked teeth and he smiled back, breathing easier than before. Only one day in this strange town and he had a friend.  
They were coming up to Carlos’ house, and Carlos could see the removal van, over half empty.  
“You’re pretty weird.” Dana commented, offhandedly and Carlos realised she had been watching him, taking her chances with stepping on the cracks.  
“Sorry,” Carlos said immediately, taking back the comment on having a friend.  
“No, it’s okay. This whole town is weird. You’re the good kind of weird.”  
Carlos grinned, still not quite looking at her. “You’re pretty weird yourself.”  
Dana laughed, her eyes crinkling. “Why thank you.” She did a curtsey and Carlos did some kind of bow back that made her laugh again.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow right?” she asked as they reached the driveway.  
“Sure. You can show me more of this crazy town.”  
Dana nodded with a grin, and waved at him and then his mum who had come out of the house to wave at the two of them.  
Just before she turned to walk off, she fixed him with a serious look. “Keep that foot on you, Carlos. If Josie is scared of that thing, then you should be too.”  
Carlos nodded and waved her off, still trying to convince himself that maybe this was some kind of prank. His mother pulled Carlos in for a hug, which he tolerated.  
“Are you finally going to help me unpack?” she asked him, ruffling his hair, and he chuckled, ducking under her hand to avoid her messing his hair up.  
“Yeah, yeah sorry.” He hefted a box with ‘Carlos! Fragile! Don’t drop!’ scrawled on the side and headed back into the house, taking a deep breath before he stepped onto the hallway, trying to put the day’s sightings and stories behind him. 

XXXxxxXXX

That night Carlos slept on the floor while his mother slept on the couch, as the bedrooms were still dusty. Carlos still hadn’t chosen which bedroom he wanted, but his mum eventually made the decision for him.  
“You have the bigger one, love. Plus I want the one with the walk-in wardrobe, unless you suddenly have more than two outfits?” she had told him, digging his in the ribs lightly. But it was true, he only had one pair of jeans that weren’t too tight or too loose or too scratchy, and one T-shirt with a bad science pun, one plaid shirt and a hoodie.  
Carlos really didn’t want the big room, with the spirit of the dead woman floating around but he agreed. After a night’s sleep, he decided that the whole ghost thing was just a joke. Dana was just messing with him and Josie just had a good sense of humour. The ghost woman could be explained away as the heat from the desert outside and the dust motes forming some kind of mirage. If he looked in his science books Carlos was sure he could find a rational explanation.  
There was some furniture already in the room; a big wooden desk, a single bed that now held Carlos’ old mattress and bedding, and a big mirror in the corner of the room with a sheet flung over it. He pulled it down, coughing at the dust and looked at his reflection. The glass was cloudy with age and even after rubbing at it with the sleeve of his shirt it was hazy. He dismissed it, not really caring to stare at himself.  
He moved his boxes in, placing his prized possession- an admittedly cheap and basic light microscope- on the desk in his room. His science books stacked neatly on the desk too, and his clothes were tucked away in a chest of drawers. He sank down on the bed, looking around his new big room and allowed himself a smile. Maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad.


End file.
